


our flaws, exhumed

by asterisms



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Female-Centric, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-28 19:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10838058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterisms/pseuds/asterisms
Summary: “Would you have done it?”A pause, filled only by the rattle of the train’s wheels against the tracks.“I can’t answer that, Marie.”“Yeah,” Marietta says as she closes her eyes, “I guess you couldn’t.”It begins on the train.





	1. Chapter 1

The door to the compartment slides shut behind her, and Marietta finally allows herself to release a shuddering breath as she collapses into the seat by the window. As she made her way to the compartment, she’d counted every person she passed, tracking every pair of eyes that rested on her face. Some were scornful. More were curious.

As far as she’s concerned, one is just as bad as the other.

The boils that brand her face flare in pain and she raises a hand to touch them, pausing when she feels the thin cloth she’s draped over her head as a veil to cover the evidence. She trails her fingers down her face, as well as she can with the cloth in the way, and the pain doesn’t fade, but it doesn’t get worse either.

It’s an improvement, really.

Only weeks ago they burned at every touch.

The door opens, and she drops her hand to her side and looks pointedly out the window. It’s Cho. Of course it is.

She’s not sure anymore if anyone else would come.

“You should take that off,” Cho says as she sits beside her. Marietta doesn’t turn to face her.

Cho was one of the first to see the ugly word branded across her face, but even covered she can’t stand to let her see again. When she doesn’t answer, Cho sighs and sits down beside her, grabbing Marietta’s hands as she does so and cradling them between her own.

“I’m sorry,” Cho says after enough time has passed for the train to have left Hogwarts station.

“What for?” Marietta asks with a frown. Cho can’t see it, of course, but they’ve known each other long enough that she doesn’t have to.

“If I hadn't made you join the DA with me-”

“Stop right there,” Marietta says. She turns to face Cho and squeezes her hands. “You didn’t make me do anything. I chose to join with you.”

“But-”

“No,” she says firmly, and Cho backs down, however reluctantly.  

It would be so easy to dismiss this as not her own fault, to let Cho take some of the blame, but she can’t. She chose to sign that parchment, and then she chose to tell Umbridge. It doesn’t matter that she was coerced. It doesn’t matter that she was afraid. She chose it, and she won’t let anyone take that choice away because in choosing, she protected her mother, and she will always choose her family over some boy.

Even if that boy is a hero.

It doesn’t make the scars on her face any better, but it makes it easier to hold her head high as she bears their weight.

She betrayed Harry Potter.

If she had done so only months earlier, she knows that at least half the scorn she’s received lately would have been praise for not falling under his influence.  

But people are fickle. If anything, her mother’s career at the Ministry has taught her this.

They stay that way, clutching each other’s hands in silence, until Marietta can’t stand it any longer. She pulls away and casts the strongest locking and privacy charms she knows on the door. Cho watches, knowing that if she says anything, the moment will pass. With shaking hands, Marietta reaches up and pulls the veil from her face. She looks for the disgust she knows she won't find in Cho’s expression, and something within her relaxes when she finds it missing after all.

“This,” she says, gesturing to the boils, “is not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry,” Cho says. She frowns, and Marietta thinks this is the angriest she’s ever seen her. “That cursed parchment was a horrible trick! They don’t even feel bad about it!”

Marietta can’t help but smile at Cho’s vehement defense, ignoring the pain that comes with it. She lets Cho take her hand again, and this time her friend’s grip is almost unbearably gentle. She traces the veins on the back of Cho’s hand and waits.

“Does your mum know?” Cho finally asks.

“No,” Marietta says with a sigh. “I’m nearly of age, so I got Pomfrey to wait on sending an owl.” She still doesn’t know how she’s going to explain. One look at her, and her mum will no doubt burst into tears. “I was hoping they’d fade more before the end of term.”

Cho wraps an arm around her waist and rests her head on her shoulder. Marietta leans her head back against the seat and counts the seconds as she feels Cho breathe against her.

“Do you think I’m ugly?” Marietta asks. Her voice is quiet, and she almost thinks she went unheard until the Cho tightens her grip on her waist and presses her forehead even harder into her shoulder.

“No.”

“Would you have done it?”

A pause, filled only by the rattle of the train’s wheels against the tracks.

“I can’t answer that, Marie.”

“Yeah,” Marietta says as she closes her eyes, “I guess you couldn’t.”

…

Marietta’s mother isn’t at the platform when the train pulls into the station.

“I’ll wait with you,” Cho says, reluctant to let go of her friend’s hand. Marietta shakes her head and the veil across her face swishes with the motion.

“She’s probably still at work, and she could be there for hours if it’s bad. I’ll just floo home.”

“Okay.” Cho reluctantly releases her. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” she replies with a nod. Before the look on her friend’s face can get too melancholy, Marietta throws her arms around Cho and pulls her into a bruising hug, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and breathing deeply. Cho returns the embrace with just as much strength.

As all good things must, however, the hug eventually comes to an end, and Marietta pulls away.

“Keep in touch,” she says.

“I’ll write as soon as I get home.”

“Good.” Marietta smiles shyly and moves to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before remembering the veil in the way. “We should get together sometime, too.”

“Definitely.” Cho looks over Marietta’s shoulder and waves when she sees her family. “I’ve got to go. Are you sure you’re alright getting home by yourself?”

“Cho, I’m sixteen,” Marietta says with a long-suffering sigh. Cho blushes and scowls playfully.

“Well, fine,” she says. She sticks her nose in the air in an impressive impression of the Malfoy kid. “Clearly you don’t need my help.”

Marietta laughs and, after looking around to make sure no one is watching, briefly lifts her veil so she can press a kiss to Cho’s cheek.

“You’re lovely,” she says with a smile, “I’ll see you later.”

With goodbyes finished, she grabs her trunk and hurries for the floo entrance. When she looks back, Cho is watching her with a stunned but pleased look on her face, one hand raised to her cheek. As the emerald flames rise, Marietta waves one last time and is whisked away.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m home!” Marietta calls as soon as she’s through. 

She hears a loud curse and the clanging of pots in the kitchen, and then her dad’s head peeks around the corner. He smiles wide when he sees her and rushes to meet her, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms.

“It’s good to have you back, sweetheart,” he says, “Is your mum coming through?”

“No,” Marietta says, “she’s still at work.” Her dad sighs and takes her trunk from her as he leads her up to her room. 

“That’s a shame. She was so excited to welcome you back.” He glances back over his shoulder, looking apologetic. “I would’ve come get you myself, but you know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Marietta says with a frown. In order to get through to the platform, a muggle has to be escorted by someone with magical blood, so her dad has never been able to come pick her up on his own.

Once they get her trunk put away, they head back down to the kitchen where her dad is preparing to make dinner.

“Now,” he says as he gestures toward her with his ladle, “I didn’t want to pester you about it right away, but what’s with the veil on your face? Is this some trend among young witches that I don’t know about?” 

Marietta rests her chin on her arms and shakes her head.

“Something happened at school.”

Her dad looks up sharply, and Marietta wants to shrink away at the look in his eyes. 

“Your mum and I didn’t hear anything.”

“I know.” She takes a deep breath. “I asked them not to tell you.”

Her dad looks furious. “And they agreed?”

Marietta shrugs and looks away, the effect slightly ruined because of the fabric in the way.

“You’re a child. You shouldn’t get to make those kinds of decisions on your own.”

“I’m sixteen, Dad. I’m almost of age.”

“You’re my daughter,” he says, as if that explains everything. Maybe it does. 

Marietta wants to say more, to explain herself, but she can’t get the words out. She feels her shoulders start to shake and hears her dad walk across the tile floor before his arms wrap around her again.

“I’m sorry for shouting, Bug,” he says. “I’m not angry with you.” At the sound of her childhood nickname, she curls deeper into his arms and a sob rips out of her. You’d think that after nearly a month of having these boils on her face she’d be all cried out, but somehow the tears just keep coming at the most inconvenient moments. 

“Thanks,” she says once she’s calm again. Her dad just tightens his grip before letting go, resting a hand against her back.

“Do you think you can take the veil off?”

“Not yet,” Marietta says. Somehow, this feels scarier than showing Cho. Maybe because Cho had seen the boils before. She isn’t sure how her dad will react, but she knows it will be explosive. “I’ll show you when mum gets home. It’s gross.”

“Alright,” her dad says softly, patting her once on the back before going back to cooking, letting her have whatever space she needs to pull herself back together again.

…

The sound of the floo activating is what alerts her to her mum’s arrival.

Marietta is in the middle of setting the table, and she can’t bear to turn around. She’s not ready for her parents to see her face, but she’s run out of time. 

“Marietta.” Her dad calls her into the living room. “Leave the dishes for now. Come say hello to your mother.”

Marietta takes a deep breath and sets the last plate down before forcing herself to do as her dad says.

“Hey, Mum,” she says softly as she enters the living room.

Her mum is a small, nervous looking woman, but as with most of the women in her family, she is stronger than she looks. For all that Marietta is almost half a head taller than her, she feels small in her arms, and she gladly presses her face into her mum’s shoulder, ignoring the pain from the boils. Her mum’s arms tighten around her before she’s released, and Marietta ducks her head in shame when her mum raises a hand to touch her veil.

“May I see?” her mum asks gently. Marietta shakes her head. 

“I don’t-” Marietta cuts herself off with a harsh breath. She refuses to cry again. “It’s ugly.”

“What is it?” 

“Do you remember the group I wrote to you about? The one I joined?” Marietta asks. Her mum and dad exchange a worried look, and Marietta sighs. “It was a defense club.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” her mum says, sounding unsure.

“Umbridge forbade club meetings without permission.”

“Did you get permission?” her mum asks. Marietta can’t read the expression on her face, but she hopes she isn’t too disappointed. 

“No.”

“Did you stop going?”

Marietta closes her eyes and says, “No. Not at first.” She clenches her fists and soldiers on. The sooner she gets this out, the sooner it will be over “I wanted to go. Cho invited me.”

Her mum and dad exchange another look, one that is far too knowing for Marietta’s liking.

“Not at first?” her dad asks, and Marietta is intensely grateful that he chooses not to say anything about Cho. “Why did you stop?”

“Well.” Marietta pauses, unsure. How is she supposed to tell her parents that they’re the reason she stopped going? How is she supposed to tell them without sounding like she blames them? How is she supposed to tell them without them blaming themselves? “Umbridge set up patrols to catch us, and I was caught.” She ignores her mother’s gasp. “I- I told her everything.”

“Oh, Marie,” her dad says as he pulls her into a hug, and she feels her mum begin to rub her back comfortingly. “It’s okay.”

“I didn’t want to get on her bad side.”

Her mum makes a hurt sound when she recognizes the words from a letter she sent Marietta earlier in the year, and Marietta pulls away from her dad to grab her shoulders. 

“You told me not to do anything to make her angry,” she explains. Her mom is shaking her head, and Marietta feels desperation growing. “I couldn’t stand there and lie to her knowing that she might take it out on you! She already doesn’t like you because you’re a half-blood who married a Muggle, Mum. You could have lost your job!”

“Marie,” her mum says gently, “it’s not your job to protect me. I told you to keep your head down because I didn’t want her to hurt  _ you _ .”

“I know.” She looks down. “Umbridge is a horrible woman, and I didn’t want to tell her because I knew it would hurt everyone else, but you’re my  _ mother _ . I know it’s not my job to protect you, but I’m going to do it anyway, when I can.”

“I’m sorry I put you in that position,” her mum says. “It wasn’t fair.”

“I put myself in that position,” Marietta says. She didn’t let Cho take any of the blame, and she won’t let her mum try to take it either. The only people to blame are herself, Umbridge, and Hermione Granger for cursing the parchment without telling anyone in the first place. Although, even if she had known what would happen, she’s not entirely sure she would have done anything different. 

She can tell that her mum isn’t convinced, but at least she seems willing to concede for now. Unfortunately, she knows what’s coming next.

“What’s under the veil, Marie?” her dad asks. 

There it is. 

Marietta bites her lip, nearly drawing blood. She doesn’t want to do this. With shaking hands, she lifts the veil from her face. 

Her mum gasps and Marietta can see tears gathering in her eyes. She holds still as her mum lifts a hand to gently brush against the boils, and when her mum begins to cry for real, no doubt out of misplaced guilt. Marietta reaches up to hold her mum’s hand in her own, squeezing it gently.

“Who did this to you?” her dad demands. She turns, still holding her mum’s hand, to see her dad looking intently at the boils, shock melting into righteous anger. “How long ago did this happen?”

“I had to sign a piece of parchment when I joined the club,” she tells her parents, “I didn’t know it at the time but it was cursed so anyone who betrayed the club would, well…” She gestures to her face. 

“Do you know who did it?” 

Marietta hesitates. The answer must show on her face, however, because her mum lets out a strangled sound of frustration.

“You know,” she says, letting go of her hand to pull Marietta closer by her upper arms. “Who is it? Why haven’t you told anyone?”

Marietta wants to tell, but she can’t. Because of the degree of pain caused by the boils and the long lasting nature of the curse (the boils likely won’t disappear completely for a couple years and then could scar for decades after), it could get the caster into serious trouble. If her mum has her way, it might even lead to expulsion. As much as she doesn’t care at all for Hermione Granger, she doesn't know if she can do that to the other girl.

She wishes suddenly, desperately, that Cho was here with her. 

“I can’t tell you,” she finally says after debating with herself. 

“Is it the curse?” her dad asks. Marietta hesitates again before nodding, feeling a ripple of shame at the lie. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. Her mum seems to deflate before her eyes, all the anger draining out of her. She shakes her head and pulls Marietta into another hug, and Marietta sighs happily when she feels her dad wrap his arms around them as well. 

“Do you think you can go without the veil?” her mum asks, her voice slightly muffled against Marietta’s shoulder, “At least while you’re in the house? When it’s just us?”

“I guess,” she says, “Are you sure you want me to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” Marietta pauses. “I know I look gross-”

“Stop right there, Marietta,” her mum says firmly. She breaks the group hug and plants her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk, do you understand?”

“It’s true though.”

“Marie, please,” her dad says. Marietta looks up to meet his gaze and feels ashamed, suddenly, though she isn’t sure why.

“Okay.” 

They sit down for dinner and the whole time, Marietta feels her parents’ eyes on her face, though she never manages to catch one of them staring. It makes her want to hide again, but she leaves her veil on the kitchen counter where she dropped it and does her best to ignore the way her parents do their best to avoid any topics that they fear might be upsetting for her. If they asked, she would eagerly tell them about going to defense meetings with Cho. She would tell them about everything she learned and all of the people she met, all of the people she betrayed. But they don’t ask, and so she doesn’t talk about it.

Once they’re finished eating, Marietta clears the table and heads upstairs, seeking refuge from the heavy atmosphere. 

She takes the veil with her.

Cho’s owl pecks at her bedroom window nearly an hour later, and Marietta laughs, one part relief and two parts joy, once she gets over the shock.

“Hey, birdie,” she greets the owl, ignoring its affronted look. She grabs one of the owl treats she always keeps on hand and feeds it to the large, majestic looking bird as she reads through the letter Cho sent. It doesn’t say much, but then, she doesn’t really need it to. “Will you wait for a reply?” 

The owl doesn’t pay her any attention, so Marietta grabs another treat. At that, the bird ruffles its feathers and settles down onto a perch that’s standing near her desk, content to wait. 

She drops into the swivel chair at her desk and kicks herself into a spin. As the world turns around her, she holds the letter to her chest and giggles at the thought of Cho sitting down to write to her only hours after they’d last seen each other. It’s absurd and wonderful, and she sighs happily as the spinning slows to a stop. 

Cho’s owl clucks its beak and Marietta rolls her eyes as she pulls herself toward her desk and grabs a sheet of parchment to write a reply. Twenty minutes later, she sends her letter off with Cho’s bird and scoots her chair over to the window so she can watch it fly away.

...

They continue to write to each other as the weeks pass, and soon enough it’s the middle of July, and Marietta is eager to get out of her house regardless of the boils on her face. She refuses to go anywhere she might run into anyone she knows, something Cho understands, so they agree to meet at a common portkey stop close to Cho’s house and then hike into the nearby woods.

She lands smoothly, and is almost immediately accosted.

“Marie!” 

She’s nearly knocked off her feet when a pair of arms wrap around her shoulders, and she stumbles back as she returns the hug, taking a deep breath and feeling something loosen in her chest when she smells the welcome scent of Cho’s shampoo. Once Cho steps back, she takes Marietta’s hand in her own and they make their way toward the treeline. 

Marietta is clutching a parcel of bread and sweetmeats prepared by her dad, with a warming charm from her mum, and a picnic basket swings at the elbow of Cho’s free arm.  

“It’s so good to see you,” Cho says as they walk, “How’ve you been?”

“We’ve been writing nearly every day,” Marietta tells her. She smiles fondly. “If anything exciting had happened, you’d have heard about it.”

“Okay, well, I don’t care about if it’s exciting or not,” Cho says, waving her free hand absently through the air. “I want to hear everything, even the stuff you think is too boring to put in your letters.”

For some reason, this leaves Marietta feeling both breathless and giddy, and she has to take a deep, steadying breath before she can answer. 

“My point stands,” she says, “I tell you everything already.”

“Oh.” Cho looks surprised, then pleased. “Me too.”

Marietta shakes her head but can’t quite keep the smile off her face. She lets go of Cho’s hand and runs ahead, calling behind her as she goes, “Last one to the clearing is a rotten hippogriff egg!”

Cho shouts in protest, but when Marietta looks back, the other girl is smiling as she chases her. In the end, Cho manages to beat her, but Marietta doesn’t mind. She watches as Cho does a victory dance, a shining grin on her face, and the swooping feeling is back in her chest. It’s becoming distressingly common the more time she spends in Cho’s company.

“Are you done?” Marietta asks, crossing her arms and doing her best Snape impression. If the way Cho giggles when she sees her face is any indicator, she’s not doing a very good job. 

“Sorry,” Cho says with a gasp. “It’s just. All you need is a billowing cape and you could be twins.”

“Hey,” she protests. “That’s mean. Take it back!” She drops her parcel onto the ground and throws herself at Cho. The other girl falls to the ground willingly, having set down the picnic basket before beginning her victory dance. 

They roll around in the grass, giggling helplessly as they do, and Marietta think the pain in her face is worth it to have this much joy bubbling up inside her, spilling loose. Their tussle ends with Cho looking down at her, pressing her hands into the earth beside her head, and Marietta feels a blush spread across her cheeks when Cho’s hair tickles her face.

“I win again,” Cho says, breathing heavy. Marietta has to fight to keep her eyes on her face. “Do I get a prize?”

Marietta feels her blush spread. She can’t speak.

Before the tension can build too far, Cho bends down and presses a kiss to the end of Marietta’s nose. When she pulls away, she’s smiling, and Marietta smiles helplessly back as she feels the tension ease. 

“Get off, loser,” she says. Cho releases Marietta’s hands and sits up to fully straddle her hips.

“Make me,” she says. The sunlight frames her in gold, and suddenly all Marietta wants is to stay here forever beneath Cho’s weight, solid and warm where it rests upon her. Instead, she rolls over, knocking the other girl from her perch and laughing at the involuntary squawk of protest Cho lets out at being dethroned.

They stay there, listening to the sounds of the forest around them, for what feels like an eternity before Cho speaks.

“What’s the worst part?” She pauses. “I mean, besides the marks.”

“I don’t know.” She stretches out in the grass, reaching her hands back over her head and arching her back. “It hurts to smile, I guess.”

“Oh.” She sounds confused.

“What?” Marietta asks.

“Nothing.” Cho sighs forcefully. “You smile a lot, is all.”

“Not really,” she says. She turns to look at Cho and smiles lazily. “That’s just you.”

“Oh,” Cho says again. She blinks slowly, caught off guard. “Still, it’s a shame.” 

“Is it?”

“Yeah.”  Cho pushes herself up so she’s propped up on her side and reaches out to tangle her fingers in Marietta’s strawberry blonde curls. “I like your smile. It’s not fair that it hurts you.”

Marietta gazes placidly at her friend, sighing in pleasure at the feel of her hands petting her hair. She closes her eyes and turns her face toward the sky.

“I like yours too.” She says it quietly, like it’s something secret. Something sacred. 

Cho’s grip on her hair tightens, catching briefly in the tight curls, and Marietta sighs. Less of a complaint and more of a release. 

“Sorry,” Cho whispers, though she doesn’t take her hand away.

“Don’t be.” She opens her eyes and turns to look at Cho again, meeting her solemn gaze. “I don’t mind.”

…

The rest of the summer holiday passes in a haze of letters sent and received, the monotony broken only by a week long vacation to visit her grandparents in late July and the occasional day spent with Cho in secret places that only they know.

Eventually, however, the school year looms close enough that the supply lists have been sent out, and her mum is adamant that they go early so as to not get caught in the last minute crowds in the week before classes start. Like previous years, she and Cho decide to go together. This year, however, her mum and dad exchanged a conspiratorial look before telling her that, regretfully, they won’t be able to accompany her this year, so she and Cho will just have to go on their own.

Marietta knows what they’re doing, and she makes sure they know it too, but the thought of spending an entire day with Cho is too tempting for her to truly be upset at the blatant manipulation.

On the morning of their visit to Diagon Alley, Marietta faces a decision that is almost enough to send her crawling back into bed and staying there for the whole day. Throughout the past months, she’s become comfortable enough to go entire weeks without her veil, but the thought of going to Diagon without it makes her skin itch and her stomach tie itself into knots.

Before she can work herself into a panic, her bedroom door is thrown open and she turns, startled, to see Cho standing in the doorway. Cho takes a moment to observe the spread of makeup on her dresser and the veil in her hands before entering, closing the door behind her.

“What’re you doing?” Marietta asks. Cho smiles and walks forward, slowly as if approaching a skittish animal. She takes the veil from Marietta's hands, gentle as can be, and sets it on the dresser.

“I’m here help.”

By the time they leave Marietta’s room, she has a layer of makeup caked on her face, heavy and almost as uncomfortable as the boils themselves. Cho had protested at first, saying she was using too much, that she didn’t need it, but when Marietta told her it was this or the veil, she’d relented.

The look on her dad’s face when he sees her getting ready to leave without the veil, a mix of incredible pride and anger that she had to choose in the first place, was almost enough to make her cry, but Marietta blinks away the threat of tears. If she cries, she might ruin her makeup.

Even though it’s getting closer to the school year, Diagon isn’t yet overrun by students and their families. Maybe busier would have been better, though, Marietta thinks as Cho squeezes her hand and she fights to keep her head held high. In a crowd, it would have been easier to walk by unnoticed.

As it is, she can plainly feel the stares of passersby lingering on her face, and she can see the way their heads turn to follow her. But Cho is looking at her too, and for now, it’s enough. 

It’s okay.


	3. Chapter 3

The Start-of-Term Feast isn’t nearly as bad as she’d feared it would be.

She’s still wearing a frankly ridiculous amount of makeup in a futile attempt to cover the boils, and people are still staring, but with Cho at her side and the Sorting taking up most of the attention, she feels almost comfortable. Even after the ceremony she’s mostly okay, as the other students are too busy eating to spend any time looking at her face.

In fact, things are actually going somewhat pleasantly until Marietta looks up from her food and catches the eye of Harry Potter where he sits at the Gryffindor table. The food she’s eating may as well have turned to ash in her mouth, and she swallows painfully.

She feels a blush spread across her face, thankfully covered by the layers of makeup, but she feels no shame, and she refuses to act as if she does. She knows telling Umbridge about the DA hurt people, and yet she still can’t bring herself to say she made the wrong choice. She sets her jaw and meets his gaze steadily.

She will not be the first to look away.

Eventually, Granger must say something to draw his attention (most likely about the boils, if her look of vicious satisfaction says anything), and he turns away.

Marietta closes her eyes and lets out a shuddering breath.

That was worse than she thought it would be.

She looks over at Cho when the other girl bumps their shoulders together and a smile stretches across her lips, strained but still there.

“Thanks,” she says. Cho doesn’t ask what for.

She grabs Marietta’s hand beneath the table, and Marietta knows she’ll be alright.

…

Marietta spends the first few weeks of term carefully avoiding the former DA members in the halls between classes. Soon enough, however, she decides that it’s not worth the trouble.

She’s on her way to Charms with Cho when she passes the scowling Creevey brothers, and she tosses her curls over her shoulder, adding an extra flounce to her step as they walks by. Let them glare. She doesn’t need their approval. She never has.

Maybe they’ll understand the choice she made one day. Maybe they won’t.

It’s not her problem.

It never was.

…

It’s three in the morning on a Wednesday when Marietta brings up the DA for the first time.

“You know, you don’t have to stop being friends with them because of me.”

“What?” Cho looks up from where she’s revising her Potions essay. Snape may not be the Potions professor any longer, but Slughorn is no slouch either when it comes to grading NEWT level work.

“The DA members,” Marietta clarifies. She props her feet up beside Cho’s elbows where they rest on the low sitting table and leans her head against the back of her chair. “I know you’re still friends with them.”

“I’m not, actually.” Cho sounds almost angry when she says it, and Marietta frowns, pushing herself forward to get a better look at her expression.

“Why not?”

“Because for the most part, none of them see anything wrong with what Granger did to you and I refuse to be friends with people who think it’s okay to curse people like that.” She looks up from her homework and smiles sharply. “So, you see, it’s only partly about you.”

Marietta isn’t entirely sure what to say. Thankfully, Cho presses onward as if nothing is wrong.

“Come down here,” she says as she gestures with her quill to the floor beside her, “I want you to take a look at my closing paragraph.”

Marietta scoffs but goes willingly. “You know, soon enough we’re going to be out in the real world.” She grabs the parchment and quill. “Who’s going to look over your work then?”

“Well,” Cho says. She props her head up on one hand, watching Marietta absently tap the feather end of the quill against her cheek as she works. “Hopefully, you.”

“Me?”

“Mhmm,” Cho says with a smile, “I plan on keeping you around, you see.”

“Is that so.” Marietta sets down the quill and turns to face Cho head on. “Tell me more.”

“Well, obviously we’ll be friends forever.”

“Of course,” Marietta says. Cho smiles, and the firelight reflects against her hair, making it seem to glow amber where it spills over her shoulder. Marietta can’t help but lean forward, enchanted. In response, Cho reaches out, ever so slowly, and cups Marietta’s cheek in her hand

“But I was thinking we might be something else, too.”

The heat of the fire is too much, suddenly, and she thinks she might burn here and be glad for it.

“Go on,” she says, her voice quiet, even though there’s no one around to disturb with the noise. Cho’s fingers spread, and her thumb catches against Marietta’s bottom lip. Marietta feels her eyes flutter shut.

“I was thinking, maybe…” Cho’s voice trails off, and Marietta sways forward again, caught by the feel of Cho’s touch and the warmth that builds in her chest. She opens her eyes, takes a gasping breath. Cho’s eyes are dark.

Her gaze flickers down.

Marietta reaches up, seeking support, and rests her hands against Cho’s neck, trembling at the feel of Cho’s pulse against her fingertips and the heat of her skin.

“Go on,” she says again, softer this time. Cho leans ever closer, presses their foreheads together as she brings her free hand up to grab the back of Marietta’s neck, tangling her fingers in her hair and tugging lightly.

“We could…”

Marietta tilts her head, and the brush of her lips against Cho’s own is enough to send her reeling, tumbling head first into shivering warmth. Cho’s hands flex tighter, pulling her impossibly closer.

She presses forward again, and Cho meets her eagerly. Cho’s lips are chapped but warm against her own, and Marietta sighs happily as she falls forward. She moves her hands from Cho’s neck to grasp at her shoulders and down across her back until she’s clutching at the fabric of Cho’s jumper. Cho bears her weight gladly.

“Marie,” Cho says against her lips. Marietta turns her head, just enough so she can nuzzle against her cheek, fluttering her eyelashes in a series of butterfly kisses against her skin. Cho slides her hands down to grab Marietta’s waist, and Marietta feels Cho smile against her cheek. “We should talk.”

Marietta knows she’s right, but the thought of pulling away now aches deep within her.

“Yeah,” she says. The other girl sighs, and Marietta presses one last kiss to her forehead before pulling away to sit before her on her knees. Cho releases her waist and Marietta slowly lets go of her hold on her jumper. To breach the sudden, unbearable distance, she grabs Cho’s hand and squeezes tightly.

They sit there, staring and silent as the firelight glows around them. Marietta bites her lip, and Cho’s eyes track the motion.

“So, that happened,” Marietta says, breathless. She watches as Cho gulps.

“Yeah,” the other girl echoes.

“Umm.” Marietta tucks a stray curl behind her ear and blushes. “I liked it.”

“Me too.”

They smile at each other, shy but incandescently happy.

“We should do that again,” Marietta finally says, breaking the comfortable silence.

Cho nods eagerly, shifting forward and squeezing her hand tighter. “Definitely.”

“But first.” Marietta raises a hand to cover Cho’s lips, unable to stop her smirk. “You need to finish your essay.”

Cho groans, and Marietta laughs. If Cho’s gaze upon her feels suddenly heavier, full of intent, where it rests upon her, well…

She doesn’t mind.

…

They don’t flaunt their newly formed relationship, but they don’t make a point to hide it either.

On the days where Cho’s arms are sore from Quidditch practice, Marietta will carry her books for her, and sometimes, as they walk to their shared classes, their hands will brush against each other, briefly tangling their fingers before separating again. Marietta is certain that some of the other Ravenclaw girls have figured it out, but when no one says anything, she decides it’s not something she has to worry about. Of all the things she has to be ashamed about, her relationship with Cho is not one of them.

By early December, the boils on her face have faded to pale pink scars against her skin.

“Come on, Marie.” Cho holds her hand out beseechingly. “You can do this.”

“I don’t think I can, actually,” Marietta says. Cho sighs and shakes her head fondly.

“Sure you can. You just need some help, is all,” she says with a smile.

Marietta stares down at the makeup spread out on the counter by the sink. She crosses her arms and scowls. Cho’s arms wrap around her waist and she feels the tension drain with a quiet sigh.

“Will you hold my hand?” she asks. Cho runs a hand through her hair, careful not to get her fingers caught in the curls, and pushes it aside to press a kiss to the side of her neck. Marietta leans her head back on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Cho says. She steps back and Marietta takes one last look at her makeup free reflection in the mirror before she turns and holds her hand out. Cho smiles at her, full of pride and secret joy, and takes her hand.

“Alright.” Marietta stands tall and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lead the way.”

By then, the stares had mostly stopped, but they’re back again now that the word on her face is offered to them with no attempt at hiding. Marietta feels exposed, like a nerve against blinding cold, but she keeps walking, looking straight ahead. When it gets to be too much for her, at least three times before lunch and two after, Cho guides her out of the path of the other students until she’s ready to face them again. She never says anything, but she doesn’t have to. Her being there is enough.

Marietta tries to thank her, once, but Cho doesn’t let her.

“You were there for me when I needed you,” she says. Marietta feels her breath catch at the reminder, but although Cho looks solemn, the devastation that was once there has faded to something softer, something old. “Now let me do the same.”

All Marietta can do is accept it.

…

The first sign of what’s to come arrives with the letter her mum sends her a week before she’s supposed to go home for Yule.

Cho finds her three hours later, tucked away in the Owlery with one leg dangling over the edge of a window, the letter clutched in shaking hands.

“Marie?” Marietta takes a deep breath and hurriedly wipes the tears from her face. She tucks her foot back underneath her, knowing that Cho would be upset to see her so precariously on the edge. Cho spots her, then, and rushes to kneel beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the Ministry,” Marietta says. Her voice shakes but this is important, so she forces herself onward. “My mum says it’s changing.” She presses the letter flat against the stone beneath her, doing her best to smoothe out the edges where she held it too tight. “It’s him, isn’t it? You-Know-Who. He’s back and he’s taking over the Ministry.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Cho whispers. Marietta looks up from her letter and meets Cho’s gaze unflinchingly.

“There’s nothing we can do, is there.” It’s not a question. “My mum’s already planning to escape before it’s too late.”

“Are you going with?”

“I have to.” She squeezes her eyes shut, as if by that simple act she could blind herself to what she knows is coming. Her favorite subject has always been history. Where the other students are bored to sleep by Binns and his goblin wars, Marietta has paid attention. She knows what a war like this could bring. There’s a reason she’s never met her mum’s parents.

She can’t lose anyone else. If that means running away, fleeing like a coward, then that’s what she’ll do.

“Cho, it’s my _mum_.” She says it desperately, trying to justify herself even though there is no judgment in the way Cho watches her. “She’s a half-blood! She married a Muggle, for Merlin’s sake. She could be targeted for that alone.”

“I know,” Cho says. She grabs Marietta's hand in her own, and Marietta lifts their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of Cho’s hand. “You should go. As soon as you can.”

“My mum’s trying to contact some friends in Belgium,” she says. “I have to stay here over break, but as soon as graduation is over, we're leaving.”

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“My family is safe,” Cho says. “There’s no point in leaving, not really. Besides, my gran isn’t fit to travel.”

“You could come with me.” Cho lifts her free hand to rest it against Marietta’s cheek.

“I can’t,” she says, “I can’t abandon my family. I have to stay.”

“You’re going to fight.”

All Marietta has to do is look into her eyes to know it’s the truth, and she feels something break within her. She makes a low, keening sound in her throat, and Cho pulls her off her perch, and they fall into each other with grasping hands like claws and breaths shared between them.

“Is it because of Potter?” Marietta asks. The words feel like poison, but she says them anyway, and in hearing them aloud she feels a weight that she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying begin to life.

“How could you ask that?” Cho demands. Marietta only pulls her closer. She can’t bear the thought of being separated from Cho. Not now.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “that wasn’t fair.”

“I’m fighting because if I don't, no one else will,” Cho tells her. “You know it’s true. We’ve all seen the papers. Everyone’s saying that Harry is the one who will defeat You-Know-Who, and they act as if he’s some great solution to their problem. But he’s not.”

“He’s sixteen. He’s a kid,” Marietta whispers into Cho’s shoulder. She feels angry, suddenly, and it takes everything she has not to scream. Her hands clutch tighter against the fabric of Cho’s cloak.

“Yeah,” Cho says. She sighs. “But then again, he isn’t. Not really. Not anymore.”

“It’s not fair.” Marietta can feel herself begin to shake, and the words fall like stones from her lips, like fire that threatens to burn everything down around them. “We’re seventeen. Harry Potter is _sixteen,_ and they want him to save us all? How dare they! _They’re_ the adults. _They’re_ supposed to protect us, not drop everything onto the shoulders of a boy who’s not even out of Hogwarts yet!”

“I believe Harry can do it,” Cho says, steady in the face of Marietta’s growing storm, “He won’t be alone, anyway. Granger and Weasley wouldn’t allow it, and neither will I.” Marietta shakes her head. She pushes away from Cho’s embrace and shoves herself to her feet before beginning to pace. Cho stays on her knees, watching.

“That’s not the point,” Marietta says. She’s frustrated, and yet she can’t find the words to explain why. “He shouldn’t have to fight at all.”

“But he does.” She pauses. “We all do.”

“I know,” Marietta says softly. She kneels beside Cho again and rests her head against her shoulder. “I know.”

…

Cho goes home for break, leaving Marietta to spend her free days finishing her homework and researching wards and obscure defensive spells in the library. On the nights where she can’t sleep, she curls up in Cho’s bed and presses her nose into her pillow, trying to catch a hint of the presence she longs for.

Then, classes begin again, and all throughout term, the threat of their impending separation hangs over them. Over time, their touches become less subtle and they spend countless nights nestled into each other, skin against skin, leaving scratches and bruises on each other just to prove they were there.

A week before graduation, on a Saturday afternoon when everyone else is spending the day roaming Hogsmeade, they stay in bed, pressing lazy kisses to each other’s skin and exploring each other in all the ways they have left.

With every touch, Cho trails fire down her skin, and Marietta does her best to breathe through it, fighting not to lose herself too soon. She clings to Cho’s back, and her nails must be uncomfortable but her lover doesn’t complain.

“Marie,” Cho whispers as she ghosts her lips across her breasts, enchanted by the way her skin flushes even here. Marietta shivers and arches her back, pushing their hips together as Cho presses down upon her. Cho’s hands slide up and under her back. “You’re so beautiful.”

“No, you,” Marietta says, gasping for breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of Cho moving against her.

She tangles her hand in Cho’s hair and rolls them over, straddling Cho’s hips and grinding against her. Cho’s black hair spreads out across the pillow like a halo, and Marietta leans down to kiss her, biting at her lip and trailing soft kisses down her neck and then further down until she’s resting between Cho’s thighs, her thumbs brushing against her core.

“Is this alright?” Her voice shakes, but she does nothing to hide. She wants Cho to know how affected she is. She wants to show her everything she’s afraid to put into words.

Cho jerks her head in a nod, biting her lip. Her pupils are blown wide as she watches Marietta, and a blush is slowly creeping across the bridge of her nose to her cheeks. Marietta presses her smile against Cho’s inner thigh and takes a moment to just look at her, aching and desperate where she lies, her hips straining against Marietta’s hands. She’s entirely human in this moment, and perfect because of it. Alive and quivering with need.

She’s everything.

In this moment, surrounded by Cho’s heat and light, sheltered by the curtains that cut them off from the outside world, Marietta thinks that she could stay here forever and be happy for it.

If this is all she ever had, she would want for nothing. This is more than enough.

This is perfect.

…

On the day of graduation, Marietta holds Cho close with trembling hands. She shoves her face into her girlfriend's neck and inhales deeply. There is no space between them.

“I’ll miss you,” Cho says. Marietta pulls away and lifts her hands to cradle Cho’s face. She traces the path of Cho’s tears with her thumbs and smiles, soft and sweet.

“I’ll miss you too”.

Cho stares at her, doing her best to memorize her shape in case they never see each other again. She doesn’t say anything. Neither of them wants to make a promise they might not be able to keep.

They steal a few more minutes, saying their goodbyes in all the ways they won’t be able to later, before eventually giving in and going to meet their parents to get ready for the official ceremony. Marietta feels the distance between them like an elastic tie, stretched thin and waiting for the right amount of pressure to snap. She catches her girlfriend’s gaze and they look at each other. They are surrounded on all sides by their peers and yet, in each other’s eyes, they are alone.

Then, the ceremony begins, and they’ve run out of time.

The moments that follow are full of excitement, and although everyone can feel the darkness on the horizon and the negative space that used to be Albus Dumbledore is overwhelming, they do their best to put it out of their minds. This is a time for celebration, after all. The future can wait.

Marietta’s dad is at home making sure everything's in order for their departure, and her mum waits just beyond the crowd. She knows that the second she goes to meet her, she will have to go and may never come back again.

The plan was to leave immediately, but still she hesitates.

She catches sight of Cho in the crowd and makes up her mind.

“Cho!” she calls, and the other girl turns, looking confused.

Marietta runs toward her and throws her arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly to herself. When Cho’s arms come up around her in return, Marietta allows herself a moment to relax into the hold before pressing up on her toes to whisper into her ear.

“I love you.”

Before Cho can react, Marietta slips from her hold and makes her way to where her mum waits. Before she can get there, however, she feels a hand grab her wrist and she stumbles to a stop as she’s spun around. Cho is looking at her as if she’s the sun, full of wonder and aching with sorrow at the time they’re about to lose.

“I love you too,” she says.

Marietta feels the words like an open wound, but she bears them gladly. She vows to carry them with her until they meet again, and she presses a final kiss to Cho’s cheek before steeling her resolve and running through the crowd to reach her mum, knowing that if she slows down, even for just a moment, she might change her mind.

When her mum asks if she’s ready, Marietta turns one last time to look at Cho where she’s rejoined her family. She’s laughing at something, and Marietta feels a smile tug at her lips.

She takes her mum’s hand, and the world falls away.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://asterismsinyoureyes.tumblr.com/)


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